After crossing the creek, it wasn’t always clear which path to take to get to ribbon falls. There are multiple herd paths with multiple water crossings of a non scary nature. I did not want to stop at every crossing to remove my socks and insoles so I just started walking through the water.

It was a climb to get to the falls but I knew I was heading in the right direction because I could see the falls pouring over the lip of a cliff. All the while, I was aware I was going to have to recross scary Bright Angel creek. I kept telling myself “I hope this was worth it.” As soon as I arrived, I knew it had been well worth it.

The fall are spectacular. The top part drops over a cliff. You can walk up behind it and sit in the coolness, watching the world through the water pouring down. The bottom part pours over a variety of moss with little holes and caves in it. In some of these holes dippers were coming out. Dippers are these fascinating little birds that bob up and down. There were multiple dippers, jumping into the water and coming up onto the rocks. While I was there, I got to watch the adults feeding the young.

I finally got up the nerve to get in the refreshingly cold water. I was able to walk through the waterfall into the cave behind it. As I entered the cave, the sun was at the right angle to make the falling water a curtain of rainbows. I was thrilled to take a shower in the rainbows.

When I finally left, I didn’t want to backtrack to where I had crossed Bright Angel creek the first time. Even though it had only been ankle deep, I thought there might be a better place upstream where the creek split into two, so when I came to the creek I turned left and headed up instead of going back the way I had come. I followed a faint trail for a while until it dead ended at a cliff. I had a choice; climb straight up a cliff; go back the way I’d come or cross the creek there. I didn’t like that crossing because it definitely was deeper. I put my pole in at one point and it went way down. The water would’ve been over my waist. But neither did I want to backtrack. I stood there and studied the creek, fortified with the knowledge that I had made it across once. I could see rocks in a line going across and thought if I could pick my way across staying on the rocks, I might be able to avoid the deep holes. I could see signs that other people had crossed there, so once again, I lengthened my poles and made sure my phone was tucked safely at the top of my pack.

The crossing was definitely deeper, coming close to my crotch, but I felt a little less scared. It was almost anti-climatic when I reached the other side, got myself out and cut cross-country to rejoin the trail to the Cottonwood campground where I stayed for the night.

I chatted for a while with a father and daughter out for a short hike. The father asked me how often I ran into people I knew on the trail. I told him I sometimes met hikers I had met on other trails. Little did I know what was about to happen.